Hurting
by Mokusan
Summary: Fred and George Weasley always loved pranking. Joking was what they lived for; schoolwork and rules were nothing but obstacles standing in their way--But they never meant to hurt anyone.(Short drabble; Complete)


**Disclaimer: I own nadda. What did you expect? Jo?**

**A/N: This didn't turn out how I wanted it to, and eventually became the drabble you see here. Criticism wanted and expected. I wanna know what you think. This is from Fred's POV, obviously. Enjoy.**

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We loved pranking, George and I. Making people laugh was what we lived for; rules and schoolwork were nothing but obstacles in our path. No Prefect or Professor could stop us. House Points were meaningless, and when it really came down to it, quidditch wasn't as important. Rather, our hearts belong to the art of comedy, jokes and laughs abound.

But we never meant to hurt anyone.

For a long time we didn't, either. It was a pink kitchen here, a canary cream there. Little things that would only lose us house points, and get us detention now and again. We might have had an entire drawer in Filch's filing cabnit to ourselves, but like I said, little things. No one was _really_ bothered except maybe Snape, Percy, and Mum. But everyone else found at least a few of our pranks funny. And I think that's what kept us going, kept pushing us closer and closer to crossing the line.

There was a line, though. Unfortunately we didn't see it.

I still remember a time when calling the incoming students Ickle Firsties was as harsh as our insults got; when slipping a bit of color-changing powder into Alicia's drink was one of the more advanced pranks. Things do change, though in this case I'm not exactly sure where the change was. I suppose we had been doing what was considered wrong since joking became our passion, but we were never aware of it. Nobody said anything, either.

I think the time we really started feeling guiltly was seventh year. A lot changed then, and most of it wasn't good. Our school was taken over by an evil toad-woman, our Headmaster long gone. We were banned from quidditch, and would have been expelled for setting off fireworks all over the entire school grounds and turning a corridor into a swamp had we not escaped on broomsticks in front of the student body and staff, and gone to open our joke shop.

But before all that, we did some things. Things that now, I'm even sure why I did them. If I asked him, I'm pretty sure George wouldn't know either. And I know those kinds of things.

If you look back on our seventh year, some might think it was the girls, Angelina, Alicia and Katie, and Lee that pointed things out. But it wasn't. At least, not the ones that directly told us. No, as hard to admit as it is, that was Mum. It was Mum who finally could take no more and sat us down to talk. But it wasn't anything either of us wanted to hear. Got us thinking, though. And that's all she knew she needed to do.

She made us think about all we had done, and not in that motherly way, you know, when they tell you to sit in the corner? No, it wasn't like that. We sat at the table like civilized adults. Dad was at work, and Ron and Ginny were still at Hogwarts. Business was booming for us, and we honestly couldn't see what was so wrong.

Then she explained things.

Least to say, we didn't like what we were hearing. She asked us about a few of our pranks and tricks, telling us that we weren't going to get in trouble for what we had done. Not that she could really do anything anyway, but Mum, in my personal opinion, is scarier than You-Know-Who any day.

We told her about the canary creams, our fireworks. The Skivving Snackboxes, and a few quidditch pranks no one knew we were behind. We spilled on our kitchen disasters, and the reason why the Headless Knight Armor was headless. How we had shoved Montague into a vanishing closet that wasn't made for vanishing, and how he had turned up two days later shoved into a toilet. We at last explained the corridor swamp, and several other pranks we had accomplished over the years.

I think it was the vanishing closet she talked to us most about. Told us that if they hadn't found him in time, what would have happened? He wouldn't be around, that's what. Even if he was a slimy, good for nothing git, George and I didn't want him... We didn't want him to _die_. I remember that he had been in the Hospital Wing for a week after that. But it was nothing new. People were always getting sent to the Hospital Wing after our pranks.

People were always getting _hurt_ because of our pranks.

We don't prank as much anymore. The joke shop still sells, but everyone says we've lost our touch. Lost the gleam in our eye and the heart to keep joking. We could prove them wrong, if we really wanted to. But there isn't any point. Words are just words. They've never meant anything to us, and they never will. Call me paranoid, but I just don't want someone getting hurt. Again. I don't think we could take the guilt. It's hard enough dealing with eighteen years of it, we don't need any more.

We loved pranking, George and I. Making people laugh was what we lived for; rules and schoolwork were nothing but obstacles in our path. No Prefect or Professor could stop us. House Points were meaningless, and when it really came down to it, quidditch wasn't as important. Rather, our hearts belong to the art of comedy, jokes and laughs abound. But like I said: We never meant to hurt anyone.

The line is back now. This time we see it.

And this time, we aren't going to cross it.


End file.
